The New and The Old
by Akira Sato
Summary: Germania and Grandpa Rome create the HRE. HRE's life and death and rebirth as Germany in Prussia's arms. Mpreg. Male Pregnancy. Germania wasn't on the character selection list...bad FF xD
1. The New and The Old

Roma Antiqua would travel the world; have a little fun on the beach, fight a good battle and gain new lands then celebrate with a little more fun on the beach. He had it all, and thought it would all stay. He was too cocky, too proud.

Germania knew this. He knew that Ancient Rome was doomed to fall to ruins. His internal government was far too unstable, the constant shifting between monarchy and republic to being Autocracy. There was no way that his people would stand for this for much longer.

And after Germania had gone to all the trouble of fighting alongside him, showing him the better armor, Roma was still going around and sleeping with strange women down in Egypt and Greece and the Balkins and Syria... He set about to punish the Roman with his own sword.

"The fatal blow." He whispered, raising the blade to gleam in the setting sunlight. You cheat with someone, shame on you…but get pregnant by that cheater, well, shame on you again. Germania had no time, no will, to be a parent. He knew what happened to nations when they gave birth—their child took their place in the world; and they would die. He would die.

Well, he wasn't going to go down alone. He would take that Roman fool down with him.

Germania brought the sword to eye level, inspecting his ice blue eyes in its reflective surface. So cold and dark. How long has it been since they held the spark of life? The dark circles under his eyes made him look so old, so tired—wait...he was old and tired.

His eyes moved from the sword, down to his armored covered body. Brown, forest green, rusted bronze, made to be strong, enduring. Yet under it all, there was a tiny life growing, so delicate and fragile. He hated it. He hated Rome.

*****

The fair skinned nation looked out over the Italian peninsula, waiting for Rome to arrive. The note in his hand was of no use. They were going to discuss the growing problem—"For the time being, keep smiling until I get there"

"Off visiting Mama Greece probably," he grumbled, trying and failing to follow the notes instructions.

"Wrong~" Rome sang, wrapping his arms around Germania's shoulders. He rubbed the stubble beard against the other's smooth, strong jaw line. "I was…" getting beaten by the Ottoman Empire. "…Just getting a little Sun." lies. "Out in the vineyards' with a plate of pasta and olive oil—prodigiosus! You must join me sometime." Before you die.

"…That's what got us into this trouble in the first place, Rome." Typical behavior, so stern, so serious—yet with an added hint of worry, "Your sex addiction is going to get this world," you "into trouble." The blond turned, pulling his body away from the Roman's. His fingers itched to grasp the handle of the blade and drive it home in the Roman's heart. But he couldn't—wouldn't. Germania would make Roma pay on the day the infant was born.

So for the time being, Germania allowed Rome to feel safe and secure. He allowed the other to whisper sweet words to the growing nation under his armor.

Just as the sun set and the moon rose, Germania had a horrible sinking feeling. The ice cold grip of worry took hold of his heart and twisted his stomach into knots. "Who will raise it?" he whispered to the top of Rome's head. And sapphires were met with rusted brown; both were left with the heavy question with no answer.


	2. The New and The Dead

Rome stood panting over the battle field. Blood dripped from his arm and blade, staining the green grass that was once so innocent and welcoming. In the distance Corinth was set ablaze with the cleansing fire of hell.

Mama Greece died at Corinth, died by Roma Antiqua's own hand, died leaving behind a new born son to pick up the pieces.

It was funny how that in the aftermath of battle, even though you are mentally and physically exhausted, you are forced to feel and see and relive every aspect of the battle. No matter how many times you try to blink away the sight, or wash away the blood, or deafen out the screams, you have to see it; confront it. You have to come to terms with the fact you have taken life.

The memories won't leave you alone. They build and build and build until you are pushed over the edge and scream from the very depths of your soul—or you freeze the emotions, turn them to stone, and let them haunt you.

Roma Antiqua could do neither. He stood there, staring, helpless as one of his greatest loves burned. "Sileo in pacis" He wished his lover. "May vos excito in lux lucis." [1]

"And I'm sure she will" Germania spoke softly from behind the Roman. It was a common theme between the two; stay close, but stay quite. Germania hated noise; his alone time was his happy time, and Roma could respect this. Especially now that Germania was so heavy with child. Fit to burst, his armor had long since ceased to fit and now had to wear plain peasant clothes. They itched and rubbed him the wrong way making the Germanic Nation all the more irritable.

Roma gathered himself together and turned "It is always hard to remember we must be nations first and lovers second."

Germania's eye twitched. Did Roma actually think he cared that Mama Greece was dead? Rome cheated on him with her, she birthed his child—how could Germania expected to feel sympathy? "Yes…I suppose it must be hard on you…what of the boy?" Still, a little compassion he was capable of, even if it was forced.

"He will be fine. His mother's gods will see to his survival, she left him with land, and a rich culture."

Germania nodded. He allowed the air to fall silent and heavy on their shoulders. If he focused hard enough, he could almost feel the heat of the flames. "…how did this start?" The pregnant nation inquired. "This battle?"

"The Greeks taunted me." Roma Antiqua said with a smirk. "They mocked my people, aroused their spirit, and brought about their downfall. I had no desire to do this to her...but..."

"We are nations first, lovers second." Germania finished for him. The Roman nodded, wiping away his bitter tears. So sympathy was out, but empathy wasn't. Germania placed a hand on the taut skin of his stomach, feeling the tiny life turn circles from within.

Roma saw the look of discomfort and instantly snapped back to attention. "You should be resting those ankles of yours." He fawned. "My little girl needs to be treated like a goddess."

"It's going to be a boy." Germania grunted, glaring down and away from the Roman that was now so lovingly rubbing the swollen belly. _How can you love it? It's going to kill me; I'm going to kill you for killing me. I hate it. I hate you. _

"Then a god." Roma chuckled, kissing the belly button that had been pushed out in strain.

"…you're bleeding on me." The blond pointed out, taking a step back from Roma Antiqua. "Come on home, I'll take care of that—god knows you can't do it yourself." And with that, Germania took hold of Roma's hair curl, and led him home; fully expecting to have a night of passion and love after the nation's wounds were treated.

********

No sex. That was the hardest thing Roma Antiqua had to live through. After Germania washed and bandaged Rome's heavily scared body, the blond had changed his mind about the night of love making and headed straight for bed.

Rome was left to tend to the bleeding in his heart. He was like a love sick puppy, pining for its master to come home. He leaned against the windowsill, looking out over the plains. Somewhere, a patch of wild thyme bloomed, filling the night air with its scent. He waited for the moon to rise; to cast the world into is ghostly splendor.

_Damnation. _

Roma lifted his hand to be level with his eyes. Blood stained. Phantom stains. Stains only he could see.  
Devil hell hounds prowled around the grasslands, waiting to feast on the few shreds of his soul that remained intact. They must have caught whiff of Roma's sorrow and crept closer. The more moonlight, the more freedom they had.

_Curses._

They would never go away. The scars on his body wouldn't fade. His heart would be forever bleeding. The tears finally started to fall. The hounds lifted their muzzles and howled to the moon, as if thanking it for the feast they were about to receive.

_Isolation._

Everyone around him was going to die. Roma was going to leave his children and grandchildren alone. This thought made his heart ache even more. He brought his hand down to clutch over his heart. The hounds snarled their jaws ready to clamp down on the soul and feast.

"Rome!" Germania hollered from the bedroom. "Rome, get in here! I need you!"

Roma Antiqua yanked himself from the jaws of hell just before the bite. "Wh-what?" he stuttered, scrambling to get his bearings. "G-Germania?"

"…I need you" The blond admitted when the rustic brunette stood in the door way. "C-come and sleep with me tonight…"

"Vos penuriosus carus… nimirum." And the two nations spent the night protecting each other from the devil hounds.

[2] "You poor dear…of course"  
[1] "rest in peace. May you wake in the light"


End file.
